English Version
gothique et romantique

The beach

Publié le 12 Nov 2012

I looked at you leaving. Without weakening. Thus that was to finish. Your face did not have any more smiles. Sad to die about it. Didn’t mine accept any more our reality, to make seeming, to disguise it? I wanted to prohibit it to me. To continue, for all to rot? To betray? Months, years of pleasure? To pollute the memory of our laughter? To trample the images of our lives to groan about it? It was necessary to accept, forgive, not to punish us. On the beach, for the last time, to link us in a smile never to hate us. On the beach, your back, your silhouette which moves away for all to finish. The waves erased the traces of your steps without quivering. The sun of winter is assembled in the sky for all to bleach. You disappeared behind this veil without weakening. Together, we had never existed, our history could not to more belong us. Without weakening, I looked at you leaving. In a last sigh.

le sang de la nuit, la naissance de l'ange, decouvrez le dernier roman de steffan urell

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